


fly away over yonder

by la_topolina



Series: The Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object Continuity [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Ilvermorny, Ilvermorny House - Thunderbird, Origin Story, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24653041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_topolina/pseuds/la_topolina
Summary: No-Maj born David Clearwater never expected to become a wizard; and with his careful, studious nature, he never expected to become a Thunderbird either. As for convincing the fun-loving Miranda to choose him over the charismatic pure-blood Aaron Lee--he might as well wish for the moon.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object Continuity [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745833





	fly away over yonder

The _masa arepa_ always reminded David of powdery sand, and he liked to let it run through his fingers a few times before he measured it. He knew that this was childish, but he missed those endless summer days that he had spent building sandcastles on the beach near his family’s house in Driftwood Beach, Georgia. He’d expected to spend his life there, growing up in the house that had seen the comings and goings of generations of Clearwaters, attending the local school, and becoming a preacher like his father. But things have a funny way of not working out the way you plan.

When was ten years old, he had somehow managed to save a child from being hit by a semi truck. He didn’t clearly recall the incident, but one moment he was watching the child playing in the street, yelling at him to get out of the way, sure that he was going to die. And the next minute, the child was next to him on the sidewalk and the trucker was jumping down from his cab, shaking with fear and disbelief. A few days later a lady had come to David's house and told him the truth; that he could do magic and that he needed to come to a special school to learn to be a wizard. It was more than he’d ever dreamed possible, even in his wildest fantasies.

David still intended to become a preacher some day, and he spent his Sundays at Ilvermorny going to all the different churches in town. He felt that there was something to learn from each of them, and the more he learned, the more questions he had. His father said it was good to understand the Lord from many perspectives. But David didn’t mention to his father that he spent more of his Sundays at St. George’s Catholic Church than any other. His soul was troubled there, and he wanted to keep going until he understood why. He knew that it was partly due to the preaching and what the priests called “the unbloody sacrifice.” But he also knew that it was partly due to Miranda Rose.

The _masa arepa_ flowed through his fingers into the large wooden bowl. When it was all accounted for, David added a few pinches of salt. One, two, three. He pulled the whisk out of the jar by the massive stove and deftly mixed the _masa_ and the salt just so, his mind on the fascinating silver-haired girl. In some ways, she was similar to him. They were both the first magical children born to tight-knit No-Maj families. They both had serious faith in God. They were both driven to protect those who needed protecting, and woe to the bully who decided to pick on another student in front of either of them.

But they were very different too. Given the choice between speaking and staying silent, David would pick the latter every time. He would much rather listen to a conversation than add his opinion to it. He preferred to think things through, almost to death, before committing himself to an opinion about anything. Sometimes felt out of place in the Thunderbird House. It was full of loud, brash people much more like Miranda than like him. Most of his housemates actually gave David something of a headache, and sometimes he wondered if he should have chosen Horned Serpent instead. At his sorting, he’d been one of the few to be given a choice, as both the Horned Serpent and the Thunderbird carvings had indicated that they would accept him. For some reason that he still did not quite understand, he’d chosen the Thunderbird and adventure. Maybe it was because his whole life had suddenly become an adventure. He didn’t like to do things by half.

Unlike most of the other members of his house, Miranda did not give him a headache. And she never treated him like he was strange. Her energy and life warmed him and drew him like a moth to a flame. It had been a quiet friendship for years, she would sit with him in the common room or the library, or they would go for hikes in the mountains. They would talk some—she was very easy for him to talk to—but she also seemed happy to be silent with him when he ran out of things to say. She often came down to the communal kitchen when he was there. She had a knack for knowing when he was up to one of his kitchen experiments and she was always hungry. She would watch him cook and act as his sous chef, or sometimes just keep him company. And she was very good company.

He poured the water over the _masa_ and started mixing it with his hands. It was gloppy, like wet sand now, but after a few moments of kneading, it became a sensual mass, a pleasure to work with. He started pulling off parts of it and patting them into little rounds, setting them on the cutting board next to him as he shaped them. Sometimes he would make a filling to go with these—meat, vegetables, cheese. Miranda was most fond of the meat fillings, although she never ate them on Fridays. No meat on Fridays—one of those strange things Catholics did.

But today he wasn’t making any fillings. He knew that he was going to be alone with his _arepas_ , and it really didn’t seem worth the bother to make fillings for one. He was just going to eat the cornmeal cakes and feel sorry for himself. There was no way Miranda was going to spend a beautiful fall afternoon indoors. Not when she could be outside playing Fulminating Frisbee with her boyfriend, Aaron.

David finished patting out the cakes and started glugging oil into the frying pan over the stove. He lit the burner with a wand flick and frowned as he waited for the oil to heat up. It had been inevitable that Miranda and Aaron would come together. They spent almost all of their time together, and Aaron was vigorous and exciting. Compared to him, David must seem dull as dirt. Miranda and Aaron were always getting into some sort of trouble and their time spent in detentions only seemed to cement their relationship. It made perfect sense, and David was trying very hard to ignore the little green monster that wanted to take over his thoughts. David and Miranda were just friends, after all. He should be happy for his friend.

The oil was shimmering over the surface of the skillet, and he slipped the first few cakes into it. They hit the oil with a sizzle, and some of the boiling hot flecks spit out of the pan and landed on his arm. He flinched, but it didn’t bother him. Between cooking and brewing, he was used to small injures. And that’s what it should be that Miranda was with someone else. It should be a small injury, something that flashed in his heart and faded away. But it wasn’t.

He was angry. He was angry at himself that he’d never actually told Miranda how he felt about her. He was angry that she couldn’t see it for herself. He was angry with Aaron for taking the girl he wanted. And he was angry that he cared so much about it. 

“Hi David!” Miranda said brightly as she tripped into the kitchen. “Those sure smell good. Did you make enough to share?”

Great. Here she was, and he was going to have to pretend that everything was fine between them. For a moment, he hated her for not seeing what was in front of her face, and he kept his eyes on his cooking because he didn’t think he could hide his anger from her.

“Sure. They’ll be ready in a minute,” he said shortly.

“Can I do anything to help?”

“No.”

She wandered around the vaulted kitchen, pulling cookbooks off the brick and board shelves to flip through, and putting them back after a few pages only to select a new one. She never sat still, she was always moving. Even in classes, she was always fidgeting with her hair, or her parchment, or her bag. It should have bothered him. In anyone else, it would have driven him crazy; but in her, it was just part of her charm. She was made to run wild in the outdoors and he wanted to watch her all the time.

“Just _arepas_ today?” she asked.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be. I like them plain.”

“I thought you would be out with Aaron, so I didn’t make anything else.”

“Aaron went into town with Rachel Sato. Do you know her? She’s in Horned Serpent.”

“We’re partners in Potions.”

“Oh, that’s right. What’s she like?”

“She’s really smart.”

“We’ll you’re no slouch either. You could have been in Horned Serpent.”

“Sometimes I think I should have been.”

He finished fishing the last of the _arepas_ out of the oil and brought the plate over to the table. The kitchen was one of his favorite places at the school. It was cozy, quiet, and had one long, island that was perfect for prep work and for eating. He set the plate in the middle of the island, along with a slab of yellow butter and a bowl of salt, and climbed onto the stool across from Miranda. She started to pick up one of the cakes, but it was still too hot, and she dropped it when the hot oil burned her fingers.

“Why do you think that? You’re a great Thunderbird.”

“You don’t have to say that to be nice. Sometimes I think I don’t really fit in here.”

“Well, I like you. And I’m glad you’re here. Who else would cook for me all the time?”

“I knew you just liked me for my kitchen work.”

“Rachel’s really pretty.”

David frowned, studying Miranda’s face as she made that sudden observation. She’d said it as though it didn’t bother her, but she was watching him with some strange interest in her eyes. 

“Yeah, she’s nice looking.”

“And she’s really sweet.”

“Are you worried about her going to town with your boyfriend? Why didn’t you go with them?”

Miranda stuck out her tongue and screwed up her face. “I needed a break from Aaron’s talking. He never shuts up. Don’t get me wrong, I love him. but sometimes a girl needs some silence.”

David’s heart sank at the revelation that Miranda loved Aaron. He should have expected that too. Aaron and Miranda had been friends since first year, and it was only natural that she’d developed feelings for him. Aaron was just the sort of fellow that girls would love. Glumly, David tested an _arepa_ with the tip of his finger. It was warm, but no longer sizzling, so he scooped it up and slathered on some butter. Miranda did the same, and the look of bliss on her face when she bit into it didn’t warm him the way it usually did. She was somebody else’s girlfriend after all. 

As David bit into his _arepa_ , he was not able to enjoy how the crisp exterior gave way to the soft, flavorful center. Instead of it tasting like the apotheosis of cornmeal, today it might as well as been sawdust as anything else. He chewed mechanically, berating himself for never asking Miranda on a date. How many times had they sat together, alone in this kitchen? He’d had so many opportunities, but he’d let them all pass by, telling himself that it wasn’t the right time, that they were so young, that he’d ask her later. And now it was too late. He’d missed his chance.

“Aaron’s not my boyfriend, you know,” Miranda said around a mouthful of _arepa_.

“What?” David asked stupidly. “But I thought you were dating.”

“We were for like a week. He was driving me crazy though, and I couldn’t really imagine kissing him. It would have been like kissing one of my brothers. Besides, he’s over the moon for Rachel.”

David frowned, flabbergasted that anyone could want another girlfriend when he already had Miranda. Disbelief and confusion were quickly followed by anger on her behalf. She and Aaron had only been together for a short time (ten and a half days, not that David was counting). How could Aaron be such a jerk that he’d dump Miranda that quickly?

“I’m sorry Miranda,” David said. “I don’t know what Aaron was thinking.”

“He’s thinking that Rachel has raven hair and dark eyes and is sweet and patient and likes to listen to him. I’m loud and crazy, and have this grey hair even though I’m only fifteen, and I get bored.”

“I’ve always thought your hair was more silver than grey.”

The smile she gave him as a reward for this observation made his heart skip a beat. She didn’t seem terribly upset about Aaron’s defection, but David knew that Miranda didn’t cry very often. There had been one time during first year when she was homesick, and David had cured it by sharing some of the ice cream he’d found in the communal kitchen. And there was one time when she fell off of her broom after trying to loop the loop through the rafters of one of the barns where they kept the magical creatures. She’d broken a leg and an arm that time, and David had sat with her in the infirmary and read to her from _To Kill a Mockingbird_ until Nurse Bailey had come and fixed the bones. 

“Thank you for saying so,” she said. “My brother Columba has hair like this too. Mama always says it means that we’re special, but Finn always says it means we’re old.”

“Finn shouldn’t say things like that.”

“He’s only teasing. It’s okay.” She was picking up crumbs from the empty plate with her thumb and she asked, “Do you like it? My hair I mean?”

“I…well, yes.”

“I thought you might be upset about Aaron and Rachel getting together. I mean, you spend a lot of time with her in Potions and in the library. You might have wanted to ask her out.”

“I…” 

David gulped. His heart was hammering in his chest and he knew that this was the moment for him to admit to Miranda how he felt. He was terrified though—what if it ruined their friendship? He didn’t want to lose her, but he didn’t know how much longer he could stand it if he didn’t say something. And what if she started dating someone else while he was busy being wishy-washy? 

“I…” he started again, screwing his courage to the sticking place, “Rachel and I are just friends. I think she’s really smart and really nice, but there’s somebody else that I’d rather be with.”

“Really?” Maybe he was imagining it, but Miranda sounded very interested. “Can I ask who it is? No, let me guess. Nia Starr?”

“No.”

“Serena Morrigan?“

“No.”

“Hmmm, then it must be Judith Adams.”

“No.”

“Then who? I’m stumped.”

Her hand was resting on the table, and David didn’t know how he had the nerve, but he laid his hand over hers. 

“You, Miranda. It’s always been you.”

She turned her hand over and gripped his, and the smile on her face was so pleased when she looked up at him. 

“I was hoping so.”

“You were?”

“Yes, silly! Why do you think I’m always down here with you?”

“I don’t know. My cooking?”

“That too.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I don’t know? Why didn’t you?”

“I thought I was too boring for you.”

“You’re not boring; you’re thoughtful. I thought I was to wild for you.”

“You’re not wild, you’re free-spirited.”

“So, does this mean you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Well, of course I do.”

“Then aren’t you going to kiss me?”

David’s mouth felt dry and he gulped again. But, heck, no sense in doing things half way. He stood up, straightening himself to his full height—he was as tall as Aaron any day—and strode around the island. Miranda turned on the stool, standing to meet him when he came. Before his courage could desert him, David took her face in his hands, and kissed her square on the lips. It was short, firm, nerve-wracking—and the most wonderful thing he’d ever done.

She was grinning when it was over, and he let go of her face in order to take her hand in his. Her hand felt so good that he brought it to his lips and kissed her fingers as well, and she actually giggled and blushed so prettily that he thought his heart might pound right out of his chest.

“Do you want to go take a walk up the mountain?” he asked, feeling bold after so much success in one afternoon.

“Yes. I’d like that very much.”

They cleaned the plates and put them back on the shelves so that they wouldn’t be scolded by the house elves. When they were finished, David took Miranda’s hand, and knew the mountain would never look more beautiful than it did when they climbed it together.


End file.
